


Gift

by thisisapaige



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Deserves to be Loved (Supernatural), Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Christmas Fluff, Disregard Canon Subsitute Your Own, Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Families of Choice, Finale? What Finale?, First Kiss, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, POV Castiel (Supernatural), Sort Of, Team Free Will 2.0 (Supernatural), Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28139709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisapaige/pseuds/thisisapaige
Summary: Dean falls in love with a couch he sees on the side of the road. With two grown men, one angel, the actual God, and a dog coming to movie night, they sure need one.Everyone falls in love with the couch, too-- in more ways than one.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 18
Kudos: 185





	Gift

**Author's Note:**

> This cute little fic was inspired by a wonderful prompt over on my Tumblr.  
> [Here's the link to the Tumblr version :).](https://thisisapaige.tumblr.com/post/637800517162188800/gift)

Dean fell in love with the couch as soon as he saw it on the side of the road, half-buried in the snow. Dean and Castiel were diving back to the bunker after a hunt, just the two of them, when Dean perked up in the passenger’s seat of Castiel's truck, pointing excitedly out the window. 

“Cas! Cas, pull over!”

“For what?”

“Oh, c’mon, don’t you see her? She’s beautiful.”

Castiel glanced at Dean. Eyes bright and cheeks flushed, Castiel could see every freckle Dean earned over his lifetime. He never could say no to that face. Castiel’s foot was on the brake before he consciously thought about it. 

Dean clapped his hands together. “I _knew_ I let you drive the truck for a reason.”

Already out the door before Castiel shifted the truck into park, Dean rushed toward the abandoned couch. He dusted off the snow with his ungloved hands, hissing at the cold. As Castiel approached, Dean covered his reddened hands with his sleeves, clearly remembering how Castiel told him to wear gloves before they left the motel. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said, “help me lift this.”

Help. Castiel rolled his eyes. Yes, Castiel was much weaker these days, especially after he escaped from the Empty, but he was still a celestial being. With one arm, Castiel grabbed hold of the couch, pulled it out of the snow, and carried it over to the truck. Turning around after securing it in the trunk, Castiel saw Dean still standing in the same spot as before, jaw slack and eyes wide. 

“I suggest we pick up disinfectant on the way home,” Castiel said.

At the sound of Castiel’s voice, Dean moved back to the truck. He stopped beside Castiel, a soft smile on his face. Dean had been smiling like that a lot lately. It happened whenever he looked at Castiel. Dean was always beautiful but, like that, with a real, genuinely happy smile on his face and a gentle light in his eyes, he was breathtaking.

“Yeah,” Dean said, “home. Let’s go.”

⁂

Miracle fell in love with the couch as soon as Castiel carried it into the Dean Cave. Miracle curled up on the newly cleaned cushions, her tongue lolling out happily. It still surprised Castiel that Dean had taken in a dog. Not only that, a dog which Dean let do anything she wanted, like sleep in Dean's bed or curl up on the couch. 

Not that Castiel complained. Miracle took an instant liking to Castiel. Instead of spending every night in Dean’s bed, she more often than not curled up in Castiel’s lap as he read in the library. Sometimes, Dean joked that Castiel stole his girl. 

Castiel sat on the couch beside Miracle, scratching her behind the ears. She shifted, moving closer to Castiel, and rested her head in his lap. “I think she found her new favourite napping place.”

Dean laughed softly, fondly. He ruffed Castiel’s hair and said, “Best spot in the bunker.”

Dean had been doing that a lot lately: touching Castiel. He did it when he passed by Castiel in the library, resting his hand on Castiel’s shoulder on his way to obtain his morning coffee. He did it at night when he went to bed, bidding Castiel goodnight with a gentle touch on the back of the neck. He did it when they watched movies together, squeezing Castiel's hand when they reached for the popcorn at the same time. Every single time, Castiel savoured the pleasant shivers Dean touch caused. 

They had not talked about it-- about what Castiel said before being dragged away by the Empty-- and that was okay. Castiel never expected an answer for Dean. Castiel was content just existing in the same space as the man he loved. He really, truly, did not expect more. Sometimes though, when Dean’s hands lingered a little longer than before, when Dean’s smiles became wider and happier, when Dean’s eyes shone with hidden emotions, Castiel could not help but wonder what it meant. He dared not assume but he wondered. 

He wondered a lot.

“Anyway,” Dean said, “have we watched _Back to the Future_ , yet?

They had. Seven times. 

“I don’t think so," Castiel said. “That’s your choice?”

“Yeah.” Dean picked up the DVD, placed it in the player, and fiddled with the remote. “Sam’s bringing the popcorn. Jack better remember the drinks this time.” The television lit up with the movie menu. Dean flashed a self satisfied smirk. “You think freaking _God_ could remember to grab a bottle of pop.”

“I’m sure he has important things on his mind.”

Dean scoffed. “What’s more important than movie night?” He prepared to sit on the couch beside Castiel before he remembered there was a dog in the way. He patted Miracle on her side. “C’mon, Miracle, share the devastatingly handsome angel, would you?” Albeit reluctantly, Miracle moved, setting fully into Castiel’s lap. Dean sat down with a satisfied groan, then, after a beat of silence, his eyes widened and his body went rigid. “Ah, I mean, what I meant to say was--”

“Hello!” Jack entered the room, one hand clutching a sleeve of disposable cups, the other holding a bottle of pop. “I remembered this time.”

Dean never noticed the entrance. The fingers he had wrapped around the remote were rapidly becoming white. 

“Hello, Jack,” Castiel said. “It’s always a pleasure to see you.”

“Yeah, you too!” Jack plopped down beside Dean. “What are we watching?”

Dean recovered enough to answer by then. A few moments later, Sam, balancing a bowl of popcorn big for even a man of his size, joined them. The five of them settled in for the show. 

Jack asked a lot of questions throughout the movie. He did not understand that people in the eighties era did not have access to cellphones. Dean spent the last half of the movie grumbling about “kids these days,” and Sam started shouting a plethora of old jokes as they came to him. Even Jack came up with a few, before Dean threw up his hands and admitted defeat. 

Miracle slept despite the noise. She always slept peacefully when Castiel stroked her soft fur. She always slept peacefully with a full belly, not that Castiel snuck her any popcorn or anything. He was not supped to do that. Castiel remained quiet, enjoying the warmth of Miracle in his lap and the warmth of his family joking and laughing. 

Dean pressed closer to Castiel, his head thrown back in laughter when Castiel commented on Sam’s odd red and yellow shirt. It reminded Castiel of bacon. 

By that point, no one noticed that the movie had ended. 

⁂ 

Castiel fell in love with the couch late one night-- or, early in the morning, depending on one’s perspective-- when Dean and Castiel sat on it alone. Sam and Jack had long set off for bed and Heaven, respectively. Popcorn littered the carpet and there was a strange stain on one of the couch arms, thanks to Sam, but Dean did not complain. Instead, he tucked one leg under him, body turned towards Castiel, and rested his head on the backrest with his arm acting as a pillow. His eyes dropped but did not close. He sat quietly, just watching Castiel. 

It was Christmas, not that anyone in the bunker did anything about it. There were no lights along the walls, no mistletoe hanging from the rafters, no tree decorated in the library. The bunker appeared the same as ever. When the group gathered for another movie-- _The Matrix_ , a sci-fi classic, as Dean declared-- they said nothing about the significance of the day. Still, when they gathered on the couch, they all basked in the spirit of the season. They basked in the spirit of togetherness and family.

“Dean,” Castiel said when Dean’s head pitched forward, heavy with fatigue, “you should get some rest.”

Dean rubbed his eyes and slapped his cheeks. “‘M fine.” Right after he spoke, he broke out into a wide yawn.

“I can see that,” Castiel said, running a finger under Dean’s eye to catch the tears.

When Castiel began to pull his hand away, Dean grabbed his wrist. Dean leaned into Castiel’s hand, running his thumb across Castiel’s pulse point. 

“Stay,” Dean whispered.

Castiel did not remove his hand. 

“Oh,” Dean said, his voice heavy with the sleep he was fighting, “I got you a gift for today.”

“You told me not to get gifts.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Dean raised his free hand, tracing the line of Castiel’s jaw. “You’re here. You’re alive. That's enough of a gift.”

Castiel swallowed. He tried not to think too hard about Dean’s tone, tried not to think about the reverent way Dean touched Castiel’s skin, and tried not to think about how close they sat together even though they had a whole couch to accommodate them.

He failed. 

“Y’know, I stand by it.” Dean’s eyes flicked to Castiel’s lips before returning to his eyes. “You _are_ devastatingly handsome.” 

The way Dean said it-- like a declaration of fact-- made Castiel shake his head.

“You’re the beautiful one,” Castiel said.

He had not meant to speak it aloud but it was hard to think with the way Dean watched him. It was hard to think beyond the glow of Dean’s eyes and the glory of his soul.

Dean smiled, his skin warming under Castiel’s hand. “You really think that, huh?”

“I always have.”

Dean bit his bottom lip. Castiel could see Dean struggle, could see Dean fight the urge to dismiss Castiel’s sincere statement. Dean did not.

“Hey.” Dean traced Castiel’s bottom lip with his thumb. “I’m gonna give you that gift now, if you want it.”

Castiel nodded. 

Dean kissed Castiel then, soft and slow. Dean's touches were gentle and achingly careful, like he still feared Castiel would leave. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders, pulling him closer, kissing him deeply because Dean did not need to be afraid. Castiel was here to stay. 

When they broke apart, they pressed their foreheads together, savouring the quiet moment. 

“Like your gift?” Dean asked, still breathless.

“Very much,” Castiel replied, just as affected.

Dean smiled with pure, unbridled joy and kissed Castiel’s forehead. “Merry Christmas, Cas.”

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

Dean breathed deeply. He held Castiel’s head against his chest and rest his chin in his hair. Castiel could hear the rapid beat of Dean’s heart. They stayed like that for one quiet, endless, perfect moment. 

“And, Cas,” Dean whispered, “I love you, too.” 


End file.
